Page 48 of The Bonventi Hitman

"Bed. Isabella is watching us," I lie.

She wasn’t, but he doesn’t question it.

“Soon, I’ll have you on your damn knees enjoying that pretty mouth of yours. Don’t forget what you’re really for,” he says and removes his hand.

He gives me a dirty look and walks away.

I storm out of the gala, full of rage and sadness. I feel tears starting to form in my eyes.

Where the fuck is Gabriel, and why did he leave me?

GABRIEL - 18

Isit in my study, staring at the flames dancing in my fireplace. I haven't changed from the gala, and I don't care to. The amber liquid in the glass I hold swirls as I shake my head, trying to wipe the images of Luca and Sofia from my thoughts. Once he appeared, I had to leave. I couldn't stay. I was afraid I would have done something.

I feel something rise in me, something unfamiliar—a feeling I don't quite recognize. It's a mixture of rage, helplessness, and…

Jealousy?

What's mine, I usually take, but this is so different from anything I've ever experienced.

I take another sip, letting the whiskey burn a path down my throat. It's the only warmth I feel right now because, ever since that night with Sofia, a coldness has settled deep in my bones. She's gotten under my skin, clouded my thoughts, and fucked with my head.

I can't get that night out of my mind—the way she responded to me, the way she felt against me. That night should've been sex.I should've taken what I wanted from her and walked away. But instead, I claimed her as my own, and now here I am, brooding, unable to shake the memory of her soft skin and her taste on my lips.

Why did I allow myself to fall for a woman like this?

My phone buzzes on the table, pulling me out of my thoughts. It's Enzo. If he's calling me during the gala, then it can only mean one thing—the Russians are going to strike. It was only a matter of time; they won't let Ivan's nephew's death go unanswered. Retaliation was always coming.

"Hello," I answer, my voice steady.

"Are you here?"

"No, I went home for the night."

"I'll get straight to it, as I'm pressed for time. The Russians are making their move. They plan to hit one of our warehouses tomorrow night."

"Do we know which one?"

"Word is P-13 or P-21."

"Okay, and what would you like me to do?"

"Handle it. Make them regret ever stepping foot on our territory."

A dark smile crosses my face. This is the perfect thing to clear my head. This is what I do best. "Consider it done."

I end the call and lean back in my chair to start racking my brain on how I can prepare myself for the Russians' advance.

As I stare at the flames, I suddenly smell Sofia's scent. I look around the room foolishly, looking for her. I get another flash of her scent, and I realize it's coming from my jacket. I lift the sleeve she was holding to my nose and inhale; her perfume washes over me.

It's intoxicating, stirring a primal need within me. I feel my chest tighten as I instantly recall the taste of her lips, the softness of her skin, and the way she held my arm tonight.

I feel myself getting aroused, and the desire to stroke my cock comes to mind. I slide my hand down and feel myself. I go to unzip my pants when there's a knock at the door.

"Excuse me, sir," my housekeeper says.

My hands scramble, and I straighten up.